


love-starved

by antichristchristmas



Category: Diary of a Wimpy Kid Series - Jeff Kinney
Genre: All the bad shit will get turned up in later chapters, Also I dont own the diary of a wimpy kid franchise, Also I made it so the reader likes English class a lot so sorry, Also warning: use of drugs and alcohol occurs and is a common theme., Gen, Gen Neutral Reader, I might make Rodrick a bit of a stoner, Its not really yandere right now but it will be later, Or do they just want to be friends with him, Rodrick has mommy issues, The reader has a crush on rodrick, Yandere Rodrick, Yandere Rodrick Heffley - Freeform, i do not condone these actions in real life, if you are ever in a situation similar in real life, im probably gonna use a shit ton of like famous poets quotes so if something sounds super smart, it probably wasn’t me, nor do i own the fictional characters, please call police or get help
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:54:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28177947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antichristchristmas/pseuds/antichristchristmas
Summary: Rodrick is alright....maybe. He tries to pretend that the things his mother does, or doesn’t do, have no affect on him.But after he recognizes a neighbor at a rave, and they keep showing up he begins to wonder. Maybe they can give him the affection and love he craves?But being starved of something your entire life can make you greedy once you finally get it, and that can be dangerous for what provides it.
Relationships: Rodrick Heffley/Reader, Yandere Rodrick Heffley/ Reader
Comments: 28
Kudos: 53





	1. Coincidences (Or not)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also I promise I’m not this bad at writing ahajsjsjjs.  
> (Also I promise I don’t actually talk like the story I just made it from Rodrick’s point of view so it’s like his inner thoughts or something)  
> so ive been thinking of changing the title of this fanfic but im not sure to what so if any of you have ideas they would be appreciated!!

The loud bass of the music blasted into his ears, vibrating through his body. Rodrick shoved his way through the bodies crashing into him. Puffing into the occasional blunt, and welcoming the spiked diet cola handed his way. He stumbled from the uneven dirt floor.

“Wait man isn’t that your neighbor or something?” Chris giggled in his high pitched voice, already tipsy from the spiked drinks.

“Yeahhh man I didn’t know they were into this scene huh” Ward yelled into his ear. 

Rodrick scrunched his face from the closeness of his voice, and nodded. 

“I mean I guess, I think we went to that Fourth of July party thing.”

“Well _we_ didn’t go, _you_ went with your family!” Chris yelled out indignantly, he must have still been upset over not going to a block party with someone else’s family. Rodrick chuckled with a smirk. 

“Ok? I didn’t think you’d want to hang out with the shit ton of normies.” 

“What!? Dude I love your mom. She’s like so nice!”

“Well she don’t love you!” Ward laughed in Chris’ face, his long blond hair pulled into a ponytail.

“She doesn’t love me either,” Rodrick _was_ joking with his friends, but deep down, in the pit of his stomach he knew there was some bit of truth to that joke. He never failed to notice the face she made when his van screeched up to the sidewalk of the suburban home. He could see clearly every time he had tried to recreate an old album cover from his father’s stack as a Mother’s Day present. Or the disappointment in both of his parents' faces when he told them about the newest gig his band landed.

But now was not the time for reminiscing on old memories. Right now he was at a sick ass rave in an abandoned warehouse. Rodrick shook his head and decided to try and strike up a conversation.

“Hey, don’t I know you?” 

The neighbor looked over in the direction of his voice, barely hearing him over the loud music. Their eyebrows raised in surprise, they did recognize him. 

“Um, yeah we’re neighbors right? Or like I live down the street from you?” 

“Yeah, I went to your Fourth of July party.” 

“Oh shit I remember now,” they nodded thinking “yeah your mom brought a casserole right?”

“Uhh maybe, I don’t remember.”

“Ok well, it was nice seeing you!” They smiled and walked away, their friend in tow. 

<><><><><><><><>

“What’s the move now boys?” Rodrick asked as he strolled back to his van. Ward jumped into the front seat as Rodrick started the vehicle and Chris crawled into the back. 

“Maybe we should have left some of the seats” Chris complained as a basketball rolled into his side. Trying to shove back empty pizza boxes. 

“You suggested we take them out dumbass,” Rodrick said as he speedily pulled away from the abandoned building.

“Well usually I don’t sit back here!” Chris whined, the basketball kept rolling back into him.

“That’s not my problem.” Rodrick continued as he drove along the dirt road back into town, “but seriously, what are we gonna do now?” 

“Well it’s almost midnight, and didn’t your mom say to be back by 11:00?” Ward looked at him and then behind the seat at Chris. 

“Ugh, you’re right, she’s gonna flip her shit.”

“So just drop us off and go home.”

“Well, I’m staying with Ward for the night so you only have to go to his place.” Chris chimed in.

Rodrick nodded as he drove, speeding for most of the way and making abrupt stops. 

<><><><><><><><>

Rodrick sighed as he pulled up to the curb of the sidewalk, it was only 11:45. It wasn’t that late. He smiled as he remembered the time he once came home at 2:00 instead of 11:00, his parents absolutely lost it. So, forty-five minutes wasn’t that bad.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes as he jumped down from the front seat onto the asphalt. Stuffing the keys into his pocket, and sauntered up the walkway. He turned around as he heard a car drive down the street. It stopped three houses down. 

“Oh that must be y/n huh,” he thought out loud, and walked into his home. 

“You're late.” His father said from his place on the couch, “you were supposed to be home by 11:00,” he looked up at him over his book. 

“Well I had to drop off Chris and Ward first.”

“Whatever, try to be earlier next time.”

“Ok.” 

“Goodnight,” his father patted him on the shoulder and walked up the stairs.

“Goodnight,” he said back quietly, and walked into the kitchen. He had skipped dinner and was getting hungry. He grabbed a bag of chips and trudged upstairs into his bedroom.

He kicked his shoes off, and decided not to wrestle with his skinny jeans. Flopping onto his bed he stared at the ceiling. He turned his head and realized the window was open. Suddenly he remembered something his mother had watched about stalking and decided to close the blinds. Wouldn’t want some creep watching him sleep.

He rolled over in bed, then sat above the covers, then tried listening to music on his shitty off brand iPod. And yet, he couldn’t sleep. Of course, The Arctic Monkeys blasting into his ears didn’t help any. 

Until, he thought of something that could help him sleep. 

He reached underneath his bed; searching for one of the nudie magazines he kept under there. Finally grabbing one, he flipped open the playboy limited edition ‘full frontal’. He threw the magazine to his side, staring at the model and turned his head back to his lap.

He ran his hand along the rough fabric of his jeans, and began to work the button. Pulling the zipper down, he guessed he would be wrestling with his skinny jeans tonight. Finally pulling them off his lean body and laid back down on the bed. He palmed himself through his boxers with one hand, and with the other ran his hand along his thigh. 

Rutting into his hand he decided to stop teasing himself and get it over with. Pulling the boxers off his body; Rodrick grasped himself tightly. Throwing his head back as he rutted into his hand. Moving his hand back and forth was the easy part, the difficult part was trying to keep himself quiet. 

Biting into his cheek, Rodrick held back his moans. He sped up his hand, and then he was cumming in the dim light of his attic bedroom. Throwing back his head he let out small gasps and tried to calm his laboured breathing.

Making a sound of disgust he grabbed a tissue and wiped himself off. He went to put on a new pair of underwear when his eyes found the magazine and found something odd he didn’t see before. Aside from dried white stains that just wouldn’t come off, he noticed that the model, perched on a motorcycle wearing nothing but black combat boots, she almost looked like the neighbor he saw at the rave. 

It made him more uncomfortable by the second. Standing there, staring at the model as he now recognized all the similarities. They almost looked the same height even. The same face shape he now noticed. The same hair color. The same skin tone. 

He closed the magazine and shoved it back under his bed. It wasn’t his fault he accidentally jerked off to someone who looked a lot like his neighbor. He was desperate to get off and flipped to his favorite page. 

_’But then why was that page his favorite?’_ A voice in the back of his mind spoke. Rodrick scoffed as he pulled up his new boxers and crawled into bed. He never realized that his neighbor and the model looked so alike. He only now realized because he had seen them at the rave. That was why.

Even then, it was a Saturday night, he could worry about who he was jerking off to on someone else’s time.

<><><><><><><><>

Church was usually very boring to get through anyways. But today it wasn’t just boring; it might as well have been torture. The church decided that today everyone under the age of 50 would be helping out nursing home residents. They figured that loading the old bastards in a bus and bringing them to the church was a _“very good idea Rodrick”_ and _“they’re elderly, you might learn something good from them Rodrick”_ and _“don’t be so rude Rodrick,”_ He was getting annoyed.

But finally, with _half the day gone already,_ they loaded them back on the bus. Straight back to the nursing home.

He was waiting for his mother to finish buckling Manny into his car seat, when out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the same neighbor he had seen at the rave. He never noticed them before, they always kind of faded into the background of his mind. But he felt almost like he knew them better since they were at the rave.

_Did you hate the nursing home patients too? Did you have the same music taste as him? Did you like the same tv programs as him? Did you also lie awake at night?_

Rodrick’s thoughts were interrupted when his mother was turning around and he stepped into the car. 

<><><><><><><><>

They arrived home and Rodrick was going to head up to his room in the attic, when his mother called for him to _”please take out the trash Rodrick”_ , rolling his eyes he turned around and grabbed the bag of trash. 

Walking out to the garbage can, and haphazardly throwing the bag into the can. When he heard his neighbor call out 

“Hey I saw you at that rave yesterday right?” 

Turning around he saw you. “Oh, yeah.” He said walking towards them. “I didn’t know you were uh, into those,” he stopped at the sidewalk where you were standing with a dog sniffing around on a leash. 

“Yeah, I mean kinda.” You stood and scratched your head, nodding at him. 

Rodrick awkwardly nodded back and watched as their dog began pulling at the leash. 

“Ok well I’m gonna go,” they huffed out with a grin and hurried away, their dog pulling at the leash trying to chase a bicycle.

Rodrick nodded and strolled into his backyard. His band was supposed to be coming over today for practice. Although now that he thought about it, the band was only three people including him. Was it still considered a band? 

He shook his head as he thought about it. He chuckled as he remembered Green Day only had three people, and they were a band. He smiled at the thought that one day his band could be similar to Green Day. 

<><><><><><><><>

The next day at school was uneventful, for the most part. Then he got to English. It was his last class of the day so he would be able to leave soon and then he could go home and practice with his band.

His gaze wandered as the usually empty seat behind him was sat into, then it was the same neighbor.

He turned his head back in front of him where the teacher was erasing something from the whiteboard and rolled his eyes. Rodrick had never been good at English, he had trouble reading, and writing, and spelling, and listening to the teacher explain the difference between an adverb and an adjective. But, when someone suggested he go get tested for dyslexia, he had always came back negative. Then his parents decided to brand him as being lazy. So he was stuck actually trying to do his work but he was taking longer to read than other kids, he was told to try harder and he wouldn’t have a problem. 

So there he sat, looking out the window next to him, and snapping his head back whenever the teacher called on him. But then the class was being given a pop quiz and _oh shit I don’t have a pencil._

Craning his head back he looked at them, and you looked back up at him and nodded with a smile. 

“Hey do you have a uh, pencil I could borrow?”

“Oh yeah sure.” You reached into your backpack, digging around for a few moments before finding one. “Here you go,” you said with a cheery grin.

“Thanks,” he turned back around and gazed at the paper on his desk. Staring a hole into the paper, his mind was blank. How was he supposed to know what the green light symbolized for Gatsby? 

He was prepared to bullshit the entire test and scribble in random bubbles or doodle all over the quiz, when he felt a pencil poke into his shoulder. Then in his peripheral vision a hand was shoving a piece of scrap paper towards him. Turning his eyes towards his neighbor’s and accepting the scrap of paper. After inspecting it he realized it was the answers to the quiz. Or what he expected were the answers. Either way he was thankful for something to write. Instead of messily coloring in answer bubbles and doodling his band’s logo in the write-in questions. 

Hunching over the desk he shoved the scrap of paper in front of him and scribbled in the answers. He still didn’t know the write-in questions so they went blank. Leaning back in his chair, Rodrick passed back the paper and whispered “thank you.” He heard a “no problem” from behind him and shuffled to the teacher’s desk. 

“Done early Heffley?” The English teacher gazed up at him.

“Uh, yeah.” Rodrick shifted, “that’s kinda why I’m up here,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Hmm that’s a surprise.” 

Rodrick tossed the quiz down and marched back to his desk. 

<><><><><><><><>

Walking out to his van Rodrick thought of something, no one ever seemed to appreciate him. His parents rarely told him that he did a good job, his brothers wouldn’t be too appreciative of him bullying them, and Rodrick’s teachers never seemed to like him.

But then again he was left with a conundrum. As he unlocked his van and climbed in Rodrick realized most of those things were his own doing, not others. So why should he blame other people? 

As he started the van Rodrick remembered that while yes, no one told him they appreciated him coming home to help his mother with her youngest son, he rarely came home at all. Much less to help babysit.

Pulling out of the school’s parking lot Rodrick’s mind continued to wander. He tried to think back as far as he could and remember a time someone who wasn’t the two other people he hung out with, appreciated him.

And he couldn’t. He could remember when he was younger both of his parents used to look at him with admiration in their eyes, until he began to have a personality and thoughts of his own. Then they decided that he no longer fit the mold of what he was supposed to be, and moved onto his brothers. In fact, Rodrick believed that he could remember the exact time they stopped believing in him. When he began to grow older and still wanted to be a rockstar. Still wanted a music career. When he didn’t stop making mixtapes with his friends after he turned fourteen. He was seventeen now, and they must have decided that he was too old to play the drums instead of thinking about a PhD. 

Rodrick blinked his eyes and breathed in. He wasn’t going to cry because he thought too much about his mother. No, he was having allergies. Yes it was the middle of fall, and flu season was in winter, but it was allergies. 

Not wanting the water in his reddening eyes to fall, he distracted himself. There were better things to think about than his worsening family life. 

Unfortunately, he was only going to have Chris as company today when picking up his brother. Ward had eaten something he shouldn’t have and thrown up in the middle of his science class. 

Speeding to his brother’s middle school wasn’t needed, it was only ten minutes away and Greg would have preferred to walk home with that chubby ginger kid he was always around. But still Rodrick had decided to try and please his mother with something. 

The van screeched as it made an abrupt stop against the curb, and Greg looked around, his cheeks reddening as Rodrick hopped down from the driver’s seat. 

“Hey nerds, how was school,” Rodrick patronized as he slid open the van door. 

“We could have walked home by ourselves.” 

“Ok assholes well mom wanted me to pick you up.” Rodrick lied, his mother hadn’t asked him to pick them up, he vainly was hoping his mother would tell him she appreciated it, or at least said thank you. But deep down Rodrick knew she wouldn’t.   
  


<><><><><><><><>

The van stopped on the curb of the sidewalk, and that’s where Rodrick would park it until he decided to go out for the night. He had already dropped off Chris, so he had been stuck listening to Greg complain about a basketball and the smell of his van. 

He jumped out of the driver’s seat after wrestling with the seatbelt and made his way to the other side of the van. Sliding open the door as Greg and the chubby kid fell out onto the sidewalk. Rodrick bent down to toss a shoe back into the vehicle and turned towards the two boys staggering up the walkway. 

_Maybe he shouldn’t drive so crazy? Maybe Rodrick’s mother would appreciate him picking up his brother if he didn’t look traumatized after he was out of the van? Maybe she would like when they hung out together more if they didn’t always get into trouble?_

Rodrick thought of all these things until he turned back and saw one of his neighbors walking towards him. As they walked closer his eyebrows raised in surprise. It was the neighbor he saw at the rave and they had sat behind him in English today. They smiled and waved as they began strolling closer. 

“Hi,” you waved at him with a grin and stopped there. 

“Uh hey.” 

“It’s kinda funny we keep seeing each other around now,” you laughed. 

“Yeah it is.” Rodrick nodded and then remembered, “you sat behind me in English today right?” 

You nodded and turned your head as Rodrick’s mother started shouting at him from the porch. 

“Rodrick come inside, I need someone to watch the stove and make sure the pot doesn’t boil over.” She turned around back into the home. 

“Well I’m gonna go,” you looked uncomfortable and your dog seemed impatient. 

“Ok.” Rodrick walked onto the grass and you continued on the sidewalk.

Ambling through the front door and into the kitchen as his mother was setting Manny down onto the carpet. 

“So I’m gonna go to the bathroom, can you watch the stove and make sure your brother doesn’t cry?” 

Rodrick looked inside the fridge and grabbed a soda as he leaned against the kitchen counter. He watched as, on the tv Scooby Doo characters were being chased by a man in a yeti costume. Sipping on the off brand coke and waiting for his mother.

His mother walked through the living room and touched Manny’s hair, then walked into the kitchen as Rodrick threw away the can of soda. Maybe she didn’t know he picked up Greg and his friend, although she should have if she was looking out the window. Rodrick also felt like she would know considering Greg walked into the house and only two minutes later she was calling him to watch the stove. But maybe she didn’t?

“I picked up Greg and his friend.” Rodrick said as he gazed at her expectantly.

“That was nice of you,” was all his mother said as she grabbed vegetables from the fridge. 

He supposed it wasn’t too bad, she did say it was nice for him to do that. But, she didn’t say thank you, and he already wasn’t expecting more than a thank you. 

Rodrick sighed as he turned around to trudge upstairs to his bedroom. 

_Maybe I should do more so she can be proud of me? Maybe if I put more effort into my work she’ll like it? Maybe if I got good grades they’d be proud?_

These thoughts annoyed Rodrick, but perhaps they were right. Pulling out a piece of paper he figured he could try and do some of his homework, and actually put effort into it. He could bring up his English grade and make them happy, he denied it, but his heart beat a little faster with the thought of his mother telling him she was proud of his work. 

But of course this motivation didn’t last long, within five minutes he had gotten distracted by a crow outside his window, and then he had come up with an idea for a song. Then twenty minutes later he was still staring out the window, when his neighbor walked past with their dog. _Again? Again,_ it was the _same_ neighbor walking their dog. They had never walked past his house before right? He could never remember seeing them this much. He had seen them four times in a row now that he normally would never have seen them. Of course he always saw them at school, but the only two classes he had with them were Science and English, and then you never usually sat near him in English. 

“It must be a coincidence.” He was talking to himself out of habit. I saw them at a rave and now I notice them more.” 

_Just coincidences_

But part of his mind, the part that secretly aches for love, and affection wanted to believe someone could actually have a crush on him. His affection-starved brain wanted to think that someone could love him, could want to be near him. 

He thought it was silly he was already thinking of love, and not a silly crush. But, in the deep dark part of his body he knew it was because he wanted to be loved, and wanted affection his mother didn't give him. His father never gave any of his kids much affection, but Rodrick had always been told through movies and tv that was how things were supposed to be. But a lack of affection hurt when it was his mother. 

Rodrick alway ignored the slight twinges in his chest whenever he saw his friend’s mothers kiss their forehead, or give them a hug as the teenager tried to wriggle out of their grasp. 

He blinked away the tears whenever he saw his own mother baby talk Manny, or whenever she forced Greg into a puffer jacket as Rodrick watched on in his hoodie.

But the logical part of his brain, the part that hated himself more, told him it was all coincidence. 

_Just coincidences._

<><><><><><><><>


	2. Politeness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one’s a little shorter than normal. Also sorry it took so long for me to upload. But thank you for waiting, and supporting my work!!❤️
> 
> Also, as a warning, there will be some mention/ use of weed in this chapter so-
> 
> Also (this is me trying to italicize some things later while I’m trying to post the chapter) none of the things I needed italicized would italicize after I posted it. Even when I tried to copy and paste the italicized words from the doc to here they wouldn’t work so sorry nothing is italicized.

Rodrick startled awake at the blaring of an alarm clock, groaning and rolling over to turn the device off. He cursed as he knocked the clock off the nightstand; then ripped the blankets from his body. Hissing as the cold air attacked his exposed legs. Leaning down to pick up the clock from the carpet.

He pulled out a shirt that looked clean and sniffed it. It smelled clean so he began to pull off his pajama shirt, and quickly pulled on his school shirt, trying to protect himself from the cold morning air. For unknown reasons Rodrick’s father never managed to get around to fixing the heat in Rodrick’s room. Of course his room was a repurposed attic, so he shouldn’t hope for the heating to reach his room anyways.

Pulling out his underwear and sock drawer he rummaged through it; looking for an acceptable pair of socks that wouldn’t get him made fun of by the pair of assholes he hung around. Then leaned down to the jean drawer and decided on a pair of black skinny jeans, pulling them on, he saw the distressed holes in both of the knees. Rodrick rolled his eyes as he thought of the comments his parents were sure to make.

<><><><><><><><>

Rodrick turned on the faucet as he wet his toothbrush, and reached for the toothpaste as Greg walked into the shared bathroom.

“Good morning nerd,” Rodrick sneered as he began to brush his teeth.

“Good morning Rodrick,” Greg said tiredly and reached for his hairbrush.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Bad, what about you?”

“Good, if I must say so myself,” Rodrick said as he spat a mix of saliva and minty toothpaste into the sink. Rodrick ran his tongue along his gums as he saw blood in the mix, then rinsed his toothbrush and wiped his face.

Rodrick walked into the kitchen after completing his morning routine, and grabbed a bowl and a box of cereal. Opening the fridge and avoiding the jug of orange juice in favor of the milk. Knowing his stomach would be all in knots later; and poured himself a bowl of cereal.

Electing to stand against the counter instead of sitting in a chair, Rodrick chewed the soggy Chex mix and watched the early morning cartoons his mother put on for Manny.

Carefully balancing the bowl on top of the pile of dirty dishes after he finished his food, Rodrick realized he had a bit of time to waste. He grabbed his backpack, and sat on the couch next to Manny watching Tom the cat chase Jerry the mouse with a hammer. Then watched as a woman’s feet came on screen to chase Tom with a broom.

He didn’t leave for school until 7:00 and it was 6:45. _‘Maybe he could pick up Ward if Greg was going to take the bus to school?'_

But that plan was foiled when he heard his mother yelling to Greg to hurry and eat, so Rodrick could drop him off. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed his backpack and got up from the couch.

“Mom can’t I take the bus to school?” Greg whined to their mother, side-eyeing Rodrick. He hoped he could avoid the rock out session that would occur in Rodrick’s van, involving his older brother’s poorly recorded mixtape.

“No Greg, you know I don’t enjoy you being around those kids.” His mother said, mixing Manny’s breakfast of oatmeal and raspberries. “Plus I don’t trust the bus driver.”

“Ugh, fine.” Greg rolled his eyes and dragged himself to the front door where his brother stood.

Walking to his van, Rodrick laughed when Greg tripped on his shoelace. He walked over to the other side of his van, and shoved his backpack next to Greg’s feet.

“You know, I’m really getting tired of driving you to school,” Rodrick teased as he pulled away from their home.

Greg rolled his eyes, “yeah, me too.”

“What are you saying, you don’t like me,” Rodrick acted offended as he speeded through a crosswalk.

“I mean if the shoe fits.”

Rodrick scoffed and barely stopped at the light, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

Pushing his foot to the gas as soon as the light turned green; Rodrick paid no mind to the cop car sitting a few feet away on the street, and sped onto the school zone.

<><><><><><><><>

Walking into his science class, Rodrick groaned when he noticed the storage bin full of plastic baggies. That meant the class was going to dissect frogs.

Walking to his seat at the lab table, Rodrick’s eyebrow quirked as he saw the same neighbor sitting next to him.

_What do they want? Are they gonna try to talk to me this time? Do they think I’m cool or something? Maybe they aren’t even intentionally doing this?_

Rodrick thought as you took the seat next to him. But his attention was soon diverted as Ward rushed in front of him.

Smiling as he noticed the look in his friend’s eyes, Ward had managed to land some weed, and Rodrick’s friend was never one to be selfish.

“Dudeee,” Ward murmured, leaning in close to Rodrick. “I got…..some of the sickest shit bro.”

Rodrick laughed at Ward losing his train of thought. “Yeah, are you gonna share?” Rodrick smirked at him.

“Of course man, I always do.”

Ward handed him a mini plastic baggie, full of the tiny green shrubs.

Stuffing it into his jeans pocket. Rodrick decided that going to smoke pot in the bathroom was much more fun than whatever they were going to do in science.

He pulled out a lighter he had shoved into his pockets, along with the baggie of weed, and fuck I don’t have anything to roll. Looking around the school bathroom he spotted the paper towel dispenser.

_‘Maybe?’_

But when he grabbed one of the tissues he hesitated for a few moments.

_‘Won’t it burn fast?’_

A quiet voice inside his head spoke to him. And he realized that yes, it would burn too quickly. Toilet paper wouldn’t work either.

Not wanting to burn the tips of his fingers off just for a weed fix, he groaned and walked back to class. Opening the door to the classroom, he rolled his eyes as he noticed the teacher passing around the deathly stiff bullfrogs.

“Oh, perfect timing Rodrick, y/n needs a partner for our assignment today.”

Rodrick tried to not appear to annoyed, but now he was going to dissect a fucking frog, instead of smoking weed in the bathroom. Walking over to the lab table, as he pulled on a white coat and goggles. He didn’t understand why they had to wear goggles, unless the frogs were going to spontaneously combust, but he wore them anyway.

“So, what do we have to do?” Rodrick looked at you, uninterested.

“Um, so right now we have to cut the frog open, then take notes on what we see and stuff like that.” You spoke, avoiding looking at him.

You seemed shy.

_‘Shit what if they don’t like me?’_

thought, but then shook his head. What would it matter if they don’t like him? He’s only talking to them because they’re working together.

“Ok. So _I’ll_ cut the frog, and _you_ can take notes.” Rodrick decided to take advantage of their shyness. You didn’t make any move to switch the roles on him, and he figured he would just be cutting open a frog, while you did all the work.

_Oh_ , how he was wrong.

As soon as he made the slightest cut into the frog’s thinning skin, it did, in fact, explode. It was a good thing he was wearing goggles, and a coat. Because suddenly the both of them were covered in, what Rodrick assumed, were frog innards.

“Oh! Wow, you guys are gonna have to use the shower!” The teacher exclaimed when she saw what had happened. “They must not have fixed that frog right.”

The teacher seemed rather calm, considering that two of her students were covered in whatever the fuck was in that frog; as she ushered the two of them over to the safety shower.

You managed to get to the shower first. You stood underneath the giant shower head, as the teacher began to turn the handle. Then once you had been rinsed off, Rodrick begrudgingly stood underneath the head himself.

He didn’t know what he had expected the safety shower to feel like, but this was nothing like it. It felt like someone had dropped a sheet of ice over his head. It didn’t even feel like liquid. But in the end, he was left soaked, and shivering.

Walking away from the shower, the teacher grabbed towels out of the cabinets, and handed one to both of them.

“So I think we’re gonna call your guys’ parents.” The teacher stated as she walked out of the room and called for another teacher next door, to watch the class.

Rodrick supposed it wasn’t so bad. He was going home, but he also felt like he was going to die of hypothermia. Plus, it was extremely embarrassing, standing there dripping water everywhere, and his clothes sticking to his skin.

“I mean I guess at least we get to leave early,” his neighbor chuckled at him.

“Yeah.” Rodrick was beginning to get irritated, his day was not going well so far. First, he wasn’t able to get his weed fix in the bathroom, then he got covered in fucking frog juice, next, he had to be doused in freezing cold water, and finally, some pseudo-stalker keeps trying to make conversation after they both got soaked. Rodrick made no effort to hide how pissed he was this time.

The teacher walked back into the classroom. Rodrick noticed she was trying (and failing) to hide a laugh.

“Ok, you two need to go to the nurse’s office, and wait for your parents.”

His neighbor walked out first, then turned to wait for him. Apparently they wanted to walk with him to the nurse. Great. Rodrick caught up to them at the door.

<><><><><><><><>

Rodrick sat up front on the ride home. It was fun at first, watching as the car passed old playgrounds he and his brother used to frequent with their mother. Thoughts of loss then began to enter his mind, he had memories involving those yellow swings, and turquoise slides. He almost wished he could go back to those moments. Kicking sand at his brother from a swing. But he would never experience that again.

It made him kind of sad, thinking about his childhood, and how he could never go back. Part of him wondered, why?

_Why do we miss things we barely remember? Why do we only remember the cherry tinted memories of childhood? Why do we pretend those experiences filled with fear, anger, sadness, and hurt never happened?_

It was a funny thing, the more Rodrick thought. He _knew_ he remembered that right after they got home from the park that day, when he had been kicking sand at his brother, that his mother shouted at him for not making his bed. But he was still fond of those memories, even though he remembered his parents doting on his brothers, as he festered in a corner.

But, that’s just part of the life experience. Rodrick assured himself. That’s all it is.

But then his thoughts wandered; and he began to feel bad about the way he acted during class today. They were only trying to make conversation with him. While he was acting like a total dick.

_‘Should I apologize?’_   
  


But then how would he apologize? They only had two classes together, and it would be kind of weird to come up to you during lunch. Only for him to say he was sorry he was being an asshole after he got covered in frog innards, and then had to be hosed down. But maybe he should, just to be nice. But then again it would feel bizarre.

Rodrick shook his head. He was going to go apologize to you Monday. He decided on it.

_After all, politeness was always important to his family._

Rodrick looked over at his mother, concentrating on the road in front of them. Cursing at a semi that cut her off, and he looked at her with bittersweet love in his eyes.

_”Be polite Rodrick.”_ He could hear, verbatim.

_Maybe it would make his mother proud._

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry this took me so long to upload/ finish. 
> 
> But, how did you feel about this chapter.
> 
> Also if anyone has any tips on how to fix the italics issue that would be greatly appreciated!!🥺🥺
> 
> Y’all this is me fixing the chapter and- THE ITALICS ISSUE FINALLY FIXED NANASNNS


	3. Motivation for Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took a little while lmao

It felt like someone had broken his nose, all while claiming false words of encouragement. His mother and father’s actions. They hurt. His parents had been trying to pry him out of his delusions of grandeur. But they had never gone as far as actually getting rid of his equipment.

Rodrick discovered his parents' hurtful gesture when he went out into the backyard shed, and it was empty. He remembered leaving _all_ of his bands’ equipment here. But right now Rodrick was looking at an empty shed. So, he went to check if he left it in his van by accident, it wasn’t there. Finally he decided to check if it had somehow been left in his bedroom.

He walked into the house from the back door, and he must’ve looked worried. Because as soon as his parents noticed him, his mother told him to sit down, because they _needed to speak with him._ Anxiety began to turn his stomach and squeeze his chest.

Thoughts raced through his mind, unsure of what they were going to say. Rodrick began to think of the worst things he had ever done.

_‘Fuck what if they found out I spray painted the neighbors car’_ _‘Oh god what if they found my weed’ ‘Shit what if Ward’s parents found his weed, and he snitched and now they know’_

Rodrick was almost sweating when his parents glanced at each other, and began gesturing for the other to begin.

Until, finally his father looked at him and said “Son, we sold your band equipment.”

Rodrick’s heart dropped, it was honestly worse than if his parents found out he spray painted some old woman’s car, or that he had a nasty weed habit. But _this?_

Rodrick began to stutter out cut off sentences of “Dad what-” and “I can’t-.”

But soon he was reduced to wildly gesturing and strangled sounds of distress. His parents simply looked on. Neither of them looked at him, his mother had an excuse, tending to the toddler at her hip. But Rodrick’s father only stared past him.

It was almost poetic really. A mother doting on her youngest son; while she and her husband ignored their oldest son’s watering eyes and quivering lip.

Rodrick tried to calm his ragged breath. Trying not to make his grief as noticeable to the people responsible.

“We figured it was time you spend your time doing something more… productive,” his mother denoted. Not looking at him.

Rodrick didn’t know what to say. He was struggling to even keep from sobbing right now at the kitchen table. How was he going to voice his concerns that unless his parents took Chris and Ward’s equipment back to them, they might have not only sold their son’s drums, but his friends microphone and electric guitar as well? 

“It was crazy Rodrick, we didn’t realize how much equipment we bought you.”

His mother chimed in, “I mean yeah, did you really need a guitar, microphone, drums, _and_ a PA system?”

He sat and stared. He wasn’t even sad anymore. His parents _sold_ his best friends’ (and his only friends’) music equipment. Guilt washed over him even though it wasn’t his fault. But still, how could they do this to him? And not just their son either, his friends as well.

He no longer struggled to keep a poker face, in the event of this tragedy. Now he felt empty. He felt exhausted, even though he did no hard labor.

Rodrick made a small sound of… what? Melancholy acceptance? Realizing the depressing reality of his situation?

He turned towards the hallway, and trudged up the stairs. Walking into his room, (and almost slamming the door) Rodrick grimaced. His eyebrows furrowed as he thought.

_‘Maybe I can just buy more?’_ Rodrick smiled a little as he had an idea. ‘ _Maybe I can buy it all back?’_

But quickly, he realized a hole in his plan. His parents had claimed they wanted him to do something more productive. ‘ _Even though there’s not much else I fucking do’_

So, if Rodrick’s thoughts were true, his parents would no longer pretend to support his music career. They would also sell any new equipment he bought after they sold this set.

He lay down on his bed. Thinking of everything that had happened, and was going to happen. His friends might not be mad at him. _Might._ It really wasn’t Rodrick’s fault his parents managed to forget he had a band, and friends, when they sold the equipment. _But still,_ how embarrassing. He was going to have to explain to his friends his parents took pretty much all he cared about.

But all these thoughts were to distract Rodrick from the real hurt. His parents didn’t support him. Already that kind of rejection hurt, especially from your own parents. But when it was what you wanted to do with your life? They had non-verbally told him, “ _son that career choice is the absolute dumbest thought you’ve ever had.”_ Rodrick chuckled at his own dramatics. Of course it wasn’t like _that. Was it?_

It couldn’t be like that, no way. His parents may be disapproving, _especially_ his mother.

But it still made his heart ache. To not only think of his friends’ and his equipment and, (at least Rodrick’s) main source of happiness. Plus the added injury of his parents not supporting his career choice.

‘ _What do they want me to do? Like get a job or something?’_

Rodrick scowled at the thought. A _job._ He had his qualms about the corporate workforce already. Learning about the theoretical “ _Man”_ when he was eleven, and decided he would never work for this “ _Man.”_ That was part of the reason he chose a career in music. He knew he might not get far. But still! Rodrick still felt he was entitled to his own dreams. He guessed he _did_ technically have the time for it. He never did homework, or any schoolwork for that matter. Where would he even work? McDonalds? Burger King? The local fucking GoodWill?

But then, he had an idea, if he got a job, he would be able to make money. Then if he made money, he could buy more band equipment. If his parents sold band equipment he had bought with his own money, then he would have something to complain about.

Yes, this plan should work wonderfully.

Yet, Rodrick was soon reminded that he would have to actually do work. ‘ _And just for minimum wage too.’_

_’Well’_ Rodrick thought, it would be a small sacrifice to show how determined he was for this music career. It would show his parents that just because they didn’t approve of him drumming and making shitty mixtapes, he would still do it. It was his life after all.

<><><><><><><><>

The next day was Monday, and with a newfound determination to his future, drove to school.

Greg had finally managed to talk their mother into allowing him to ride the bus. So Rodrick had room to pick up his two best friends. But his excitement soon faded at the realization that he was going to have to explain to his friends that their band equipment was gone off EBay.

When Rodrick finally arrived at Chris’ home he began his explanation.

“Uh, hey guys… there’s something I kinda need to tell you,” Rodrick murmured.

“Hm? What’d you say dude?” Chris asked.

“Well, um, s-so you guys know how we were practicing at my house the other day right?”

“Yeah?” Ward mumbled, still half asleep.

“W-Well my parents decided they would sell my drums. But I guess they forgot that you guys left your stuff at my house, or like- didn’t know it was yours; but they sold your guys’ stuff too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah I know it sucks, but I was thinking I could try and buy more or something. ‘Cuz y’know it was at my house.” Rodrick began trying to please them, before they were even upset.

“Oh, no dude it’s fine. It wasn’t _your_ fault they sold it.” Ward reasoned. “We could work together or something, and buy more.”

“Yeah man totally. We could all buy our stuff again and then it’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? I just...feel kinda bad,” Rodrick said, exasperated and gesturing towards Chris in the seat next to him.

“Absolutely, it’s ok.”

“I mean, it is kind of shitty they sold your stuff, but so what? If you buy it with your own money now, it’ll seem even worse if they sell it again.” Chris grinned and Ward nodded along in agreement.

“Oh, ok, well thanks.”

“No problem dude.” Both of them said at once.

Rodrick pulled into a lucky parking spot near the entrance of the high school. The three of them jumped out of the van; Rodrick had to help Ward pull the van door open. But soon, the bell rang and they all arrived at their respective classes.

<><><><><><><><>

He walked into the cafeteria expecting what he did every day: maybe a fight, prison food the government called “a nutritious meal,” and most importantly _his seat_ . But lo and behold, _someone_ was sitting in his spot.

Sauntering closer to the lunch table Rodrick noticed that not only was this seat stealer sitting in his spot. They were also laughing it up with Chris.

Sitting one seat away from them, and across from Chris, Rodrick noticed _unfortunately_ this spot thief was also his neighbor. He was then reminded that he still had yet to apologize to them for the incident that occurred Friday.

He did want to stick to his promise of apologizing, but it was _so_ embarrassing. Maybe he would wait until Chris went to the bathroom.

Finally, he said he was going to use the restroom, and Rodrick would be able to say sorry.

Turning his head to you, he felt ashamed. But he didn’t know of what.

Rodrick cleared his throat, “Uhm, I’m sorry about what happened yesterday in science.” He mumbled, picking at the Styrofoam tray.

“Oh it’s okay, it wasn’t your fault. It happened.”

“Yeah, I know it’s just ‘cuz I acted like an asshole after.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Really? I didn’t notice.” You were lying through your teeth. Rodrick saw how dejected you were after he ignored you. ‘ _Maybe you did like him?’_

“Oh, uh, well okay then,” He decided to end this conversation, Chris would be back soon anyway, “Okay so it’s no big deal?”

“Nope.”

Rodrick nodded, then pretended that his Styrofoam tray of oranges and a dry chicken sandwich were the most interesting things in the world.

<><><><><><><><>

Walking into his English class was nothing new. Except this time instead of the seat behind him, the seat next to him was filled with the same head of hair from lunch. God, you were all over him today weren’t you?

Slumping into his seat, Rodrick sighed. English just wasn’t his feat. To him, English class was one of those classes that’s stressful to even think about. Rodrick didn’t like this one bit, it messed with his chill persona.

His neighbor, on the other hand, seemed cheerful. You were smiling with glee as you sifted through your backpack.

Maybe he could follow your example? Rodrick zipped open his cheap Walmart backpack. But, unsurprisingly found nothing of use. He only pulled out a red notebook with the word ‘english’ scribbled in all lowercase. He must have done this during the beginning-of-the-year inspiration spree he received each school year, which then fizzled out soon after the first day.

He looked at them out of the corner of his eye, he _really_ didn’t want to ask them for a pencil again. Then he thought, it would be good for him to have a larger social circle that only included three people; and that included himself. Plus, if his wild suspicions that you had some kind of crush on him were correct, perhaps he would indulge you.

“Do you have a pencil I could borrow?”

You turned your head towards him with a quizzical look, “Hm? What?”

“Can I borrow a pencil?”

“Oh yeah, sure,” you said with a grin.

“Thanks.” Unfortunately, Rodrick hadn’t been paying as much attention as he should have. Because he knocked the pencil out of your hands. It wouldn't have been that bad, except it landed in front of the teacher’s desk.

Now, Rodrick didn’t like English. But he liked his English teacher even less. But now the pencil he needed was right in front of the old man.

Rodrick got up out of his seat, and went to snatch the pencil. Except before he got there he hadn’t been paying attention. And he didn’t know that the teacher had been asking for a volunteer to read a paragraph from whatever book they had been reading that month.

“Oh thank you Rodrick! You can read the passage today.” The English teacher said with a sick grin, Rodrick didn’t know what his problem was. He always seemed to have it out for him.

“Oh no I’m okay.”

“No Rodrick. We needed someone to read, and you volunteered.”

“I’m really-”

And then the book was being shoved into his hand. Eyes scanning over the cover; it was a pretty book he had to admit. It was baby blue with strange spider-webs of black over it.

“Now, you should know where we are already. Yes?” The devil was in his eyes. He appeared as such an evil man to Rodrick, just a caricature of a mean old man. While to the teacher, Rodrick would only ever appear as an apathetic, lazy teenage boy. Perhaps this was because they didn’t know each other? They would never be involved in each other’s lives, and never wanted to be. So they would only continue to keep being caricatures of stereotypes in their heads. This grumpy old English teacher would never know of the intricacies of his student’s life, and this punk rock teenage boy would never know of his teacher’s life.

Rodrick looked at where the book had been flipped open too. Having it be pointed out like he was a toddler only worked to irritate him. Trying to keep from shouting at his teacher, Rodrick began to read the paragraph in a monotonous voice.

<><><><><><><><>

Flopping down onto his bed he felt empty. There was nothing for him to do, and while that was wonderful, he still felt as though he was forgetting something.

Then he remembered.

He still wanted to find a job to make money back for his equipment. Rolling over he stared at the digital clock on his nightstand. It was 4:34 in the afternoon; he could skip his dinner and hang out around town. Of course if his parents let him.

Stumbling, Rodrick tripped on a step; then he was landing at the bottom of the short stairs.

Looking up he saw Greg cackling over his homework, and his father let out a small chuckle. Then he went back to inspecting the tiny civil war figurine.

“Nice trip Rodrick?” His mother said teasingly as she looked up from the slow-cooker.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Walking around the kitchen island, Rodrick tangled his fingers in Greg’s hair, and shook his tiny skull back and forth. Stopping once his father glared at him.

“Hey Mom, can I uh, go out tonight?”

“Go out?” His mother almost sounded offended. “Dinner’s almost ready Rodrick. It’s also a school night.”

Rodrick decided he would tell them, if he found a job he was going to have to tell them anyway. “Well, I kinda want to go out and…” His voice trailed off, losing his courage. “I was thinking maybe I could try and find a job.”

Rodrick looked up at the ceiling as he spoke, trying to avoid eye contact. He knew it looked stupid. But he didn’t care, he felt as though he couldn’t look at anyone. Not even Manny playing with a Hot-Wheels car on the floor.

“You…want to find a job?” Rodrick’s father said, shocked.

“Yeah, I mean I guess.”

“Rodrick why don’t you go out tomorrow instead.” His mother sounded almost angry now. His father seemed to be almost shaking with joy, and she seemed kind of pissed.

“Okay,” Rodrick sighed in defeat. He didn’t feel like arguing today, and it was getting late anyway.

Turning around Rodrick walked back up the stairs.

_‘Why did they have such different reactions?’_

It was weird, he thought. His father acted happy. Like he was mentally saying _‘fuck yes! Finally I’m not gonna have to take care of this asshole anymore.’_ But his mother’s reaction was still strange.

Wouldn’t she feel happy too? Like his father? But the couple must have very different thoughts. Rodrick’s father wanted to have him out of the house as fast as possible. But it seemed as though his mother wanted control over him. Neither of them approved much of their son, but at least his father just doesn’t want it in the house. Unlike his mother, disapproving entirely.

_‘That was it.’_ Rodrick thought. His father only wanted it away from him. His mother wanted complete control.

But then he felt the need to distract himself. Rodrick could only dwell on sad realities for so long, and he had dwelled long enough.

So his thoughts took a different route. ‘ _Why do I want to change my life so much?’_

It was like a flip had been switched inside of his brain. He had no motivation for school still. But the _other_ part of his life. _The quality_. Making his life not so depressing seemed extremely appetizing.

Rodrick thought that was it. He just wanted a happier life. A life more full of life. But how much more could he do? His life was already full, and happy. Until he heard his mother yell for him downstairs. He didn’t want _more_ life, more fun. He wanted to not feel like his mother hated him.

But even then, this thought didn’t satisfy him. There was only so much one could take out of life, and it felt like he had taken quite a bit. So what else was it.

Rodrick ignored the next thought in his mind.

_Love, for his parents to not hate him, motherly love. His mother’s love. To not feel empty all the time. More control over his life. His parents’ support._

All of these needs, wants, desires. They all culminated into one growing mass of hate, and sadness, and anger; it was too much for a teenage boy. He could only handle so much at once, and these things weighed him down. They all seemed to personify and beat the shit out of him at once.

<><><><><><><><>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you feel about this chapter? Did you like it?


End file.
